


A Curious Bookshop

by Anzieizna



Series: Short stories [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: GAYS OKAY LOOK AT THESE GAYS, M/M, Old Dudes in Love, alex says 'ust' if that counts, also been experimenting with humour in writing, and yes i do mean unsolved sexual tension, because i'm so funny, but like not yet, but nothing is said, leave me alone, playing with ages, this is what i'm doing instead of practising for my french exam, though tbh there's not too much of that in here? but i thought it was funny so, well they are in love, yes it's tomorrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 17:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19255399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anzieizna/pseuds/Anzieizna
Summary: Alex is forced to work in a far-too-hot-bookshop, but it's okay because apparently gay reaches everywhere.OR:I wanted to play with age so I created this monstrosity.





	A Curious Bookshop

The bookshop was stuffy, as all bookshops had to be – it was law, Alex was pretty sure – with dust floating between one window and the next. Despite the light, the interior was quite dark, with only old-fashioned lanterns placed aside to provide light. Henry, the shop-owner, had wanted to dot candles around to really hone in the ancient theme, and had even ordered them until Alex reminded him that the entire shop was filled with paper.

 

Needless to say, Henry chose lanterns instead.

 

It was summer, so Alex had tried to sneakily open the windows no less than five times now, but Henry always caught her and reprimanded her.

 

“You’ll let in all the bugs,” he’d said. “All the flies’ll come in and settle on the books. And I don’t have the heart to kill them, which means I’ll have to humanely trap them and I don’t have any honey around, and it all costs so much these days and—”

 

And no matter how many times Alex had pointed out that it was _scorching inside, Mr McCay, please_ , the old man never let up. To be fair, it was Alex’s fault for volunteering in the summer. She _could_ have done it in the winter, or autumn, or literally any other time than when it was hotter than hell on Earth.

 

Instead, her mother had said, “Go on, Alex. It’ll give you things to do.” And like a fool, Alex fell for it.

 

Henry McCay was a wonderful old man. He was kind, sincere, and always volunteered to do magic tricks at childrens’ birthdays. Truthfully, he was terrible at it, but none of the kids ever had the heart to tell him so, and instead just watched silently as he very obviously dropped the card he’d told everyone to memorise and then worried about where it went.

 

His daughter had died just over a year ago, and everyone in the village had been cautious if the man’s spirit would be broken. Mr McCay spent more time in the shop, and his magic trick routine got a lot shorter, but his smile was just as bright as ever.

 

There hadn’t been a Mrs McCay. Alex was surprised such a thing as a one-night-stand _existed_ in the ‘70s, but Henry had loved his daughter as if she was the best miracle he’d ever laid eyes on. Alex had met her when she saw little – Andrea McCay had been very tall, with long, glistening blonde hair and freckles her father loved to tease her about. When the cancer came about, she lost the hair, but it seemed like strong smiles ran in the family.

 

 

“Alexandria?”

 

Alex broke out of her daze, slamming the book shut in her grip. All the dust flew up and into her nose, and she coughed.

 

A chuckle sounded behind her, and Henry took the book out of her hands. “And this is why we don’t slack on the job.”

 

“But it’s _hot,_ Mr McCay!”

 

The man tutted, eye apparently caught on the title as he looked the book over. “Yes, I know, my dear; I knew the last five times you told me, and I still know now.”

 

Alex glared at him. “I can’t work with this heat! It’s stifling.”

 

“Ooh,” Henry cooed. “Stifling. That’s a big word.”

 

“I’m fourteen, Mr McCay, not five.”

 

Henry waved a hand dismissively. “You’re just shuffling books, it’s not difficult. Hardly worth all this whining.”

 

Alex scrunched her nose. “I don’t _whine_.”

 

“Of course,” Henry said, and Alex nodded triumphantly. “Now, since you’re not busy whining anymore—” he grinned when Alex spluttered indignantly “—the tea I made ten minutes ago is going cold.”

 

“It’s hot,” Alex said as she walked to the front desk. “Everything’s hot.” On the counter sat two cups of tea, Alex’s camomile and Mr McCay’s honey. Every time she worked at the shop he’d refused to give her coffee, stating that it was bad for your health and he had a friend who became and addict, and it was oh-so horrible to watch, and he certainly didn’t want Alexandria suffering the same fate. Alex had agreed just to shut him up.

 

Henry pointed towards a pair of chairs near the window and they sat down, chatting about funny customers they’d seen so far and how Alex wasn’t allowed to just _refuse to sell anything, dear, you need to work on your people skills._

 

Suddenly the bell rang. Their heads spun towards the door, where a man dressed in a black suit and messy brown hair sauntered into the shop. He walked as if he knew the lay-out of the shop by heart, shit-eating grin donned on his face as he turned to Mr McCay.

 

“Morning, sir,” he said.

 

Henry sighed. “It’s one-o-clock, Samuel.”

 

The man ignored him and strode to the front desk, leaning back against it. “Lovely morning to sell some books, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Mr Conaty, I’ve told you before, I am not—“

 

“Oh, come on!” The man threw his head back and whined. “You’re so stubborn, Henry. Just buy the damn books.”

 

Henry raised an unimpressed brow. “Ah, yes. If asking doesn’t work, just throw a tantrum and I’ll be won over.”

 

Alex giggled. The man’s head perked up and he zoned in on the girl, a curious look crossing his face. His gaze switched from her to the old man beside her, and then he grinned. “Isn’t she a bit young for you, McCay?”

 

Henry glared at him, the _‘you aren’t funny’_ going unsaid but very clear. “This, my dear, is Alexandria. She’s volunteered to help. Samuel Conaty,” Henry said, turning to Alex with a strained smile, “a sort of book dealer.”

 

He said the words with trepidation, as if resisting calling him something worse, but Mr Sallow simply smirked.

 

Alex offered the man a smile. “Alex,” she said. “Mr McCay just likes to be extra.”

 

Henry huffed. “Well, I don’t see the point of having a name and _not_ using it fully.”

 

Samuel nodded widely. “Too, true, Ree.”

 

“Oh, we are _so_ not bringing that back!” Mr McCay stood, righting his vest before walked towards his companion. “That was humiliating enough back then, I do _not_ want the entire village calling me that.”

 

Mr Conaty looked behind him to Alex and winked.

 

Henry looked over his shoulder, then turned back and hit Mr Conaty on the shoulder. “Stop that, you! I swear, if you could corrupt innocents all day, it’d be your job.” He sounded exasperated but fond, as if this was something he was far too used to and perhaps even enjoyed a little bit. “Now, what was it you wanted again?”

 

Samuel rose a brow and waved a bag he’d been holding, presumably ready to be filled with books seeing as Henry groaned quickly after.

 

“For the last time, Samuel, _forget it_.”

 

Alex asked, “why don’t you want to sell your books? It’s a book shop, right?”

 

Henry offered her a kind look. “It is, dear, but Mr Conaty here has his eyes on a select few books. Precious books, _prophecy_ books.”

 

Alex gasped dramatically, holding a hand to her chest. “You’re trying to take Mr McCay’s _prophecy books_? Mr Conaty, how could you!”

 

The elder man grinned, turning a teasing eye to his friend. “He’s just so infatuated with them; I’m scared it’s an unhealthy relationship.”

 

Henry clearly didn’t like being bullied by then both, because he huffed and marched behind the counter. “If you’re not careful, I will kick you both out of this shop.”

 

Samuel snorted. “You haven’t the heart. You’re too nice.”

 

“I am not,” Mr McCay said nicely, whilst being nice. “I can be mean!”

 

“Alex,” Samuel called, turning back. Alex smiled at the correct name and they exchanged amusement in their eyes. “How many flies has Henry kicked out of the shop today?”

 

“Minus one,” Alex said. “There was a fruit fly outside that looked cold, apparently.”

 

Mr Conaty turned back, smiling pleasantly. Henry glared.

 

“I will not take this abuse in my own bookshop.”

 

“Then let me tempt you to a spot of lunch,” Samuel said brightly. “Was actually one of the reasons I came by the shop today. We haven’t had lunch in a while.”

 

Astonishingly, Alex could have sworn she saw Henry blush.

 

“Shop’s still open.”

 

“Close it, then.”

 

“It’ll be bad for business.”

 

“Why don’t you leave it to Alex?”

 

“I can’t leave Alexandria to care for the shop all alone.”

 

“Yes, you can,” Alex piped up. Both men broke out of their stare, startling to look at her. “I can totally look after it by myself. Go on,” she motioned with a hand.

 

Henry opened his mouth then close it, wincing lightly. “Look, my dear, I don’t mean to be… well, er, _mean_ , but—”

 

“I won’t refuse to serve any more customers,” Alex groaned. “Promise.”

 

Mr Conaty laughed. “You should keep her around,” he told Henry, and Alex beamed.

 

“Go,” she said again. “You deserve a break.”

 

After a few moments, Henry caved in. Samuel’s face lit up with the brightest grin, and Alex watched, giddy, as Mr McCay’s face mirrored it. “Fine,” he said. “But no more than half an hour.”

 

“By my word,” Mr Conaty said, then skipped back. “I’ll be in the car.”

 

He gave a wave to Alex and even ruffled her hair on the way out, laughing as she spluttered angrily.

 

“Oh, ignore him,” Mr McCay sighed. “He’s like that.”

 

Alex stood and hummed. “Yeah,” she said, watching the man put his coat on. Then she asked, “have you ever heard of UST?”

 

Henry looked up, blinking. “No. What’s that?”

 

Alex shrugged and smiled. “Didn’t think so. Don’t worry, Mr McCay, I’ve got it covered here.”

 

She watched as the man offered her a kind smile and walked slightly-too-fast to the door, and then into Mr Conaty’s car. She then went into the back, plugged her iPhone to the speakers she’d insisted Henry install and loudly played the same Panic at the Disco song three times in a row. Oh, and she opened the windows.

**Author's Note:**

>  __  
> Research notes:  
>   
> 
> •This was _massively_ inspired by Good Omens and the ship of Ineffable Husbands, so you can probably see the influence in this.  
> • I've never written old people so I wanted to include older language that didn't seem to cringy. I think I did well on Henry, but because Samuel didn't have so many lines I kinda jammed in "older language" to make it clear he's not a boy-toy or something which I think ruined it.  
> • Also, never written a fourteen year old so that was fun. Literally just did what I was like at fourteen years old.  
> • So, I totally could have just not done _any_ research for this piece since it literally took me thirty minutes, but as we all know - in my world, that is illegal.  
> • Samuel and Henry were popular names in the '40-'50s. Surnames remain practically the same from fifty years ago, so I just picked surnames I liked.  
> • I wanted Henry to be fifty but felt that was too young, yet sixty was too old. Rounding to fifty-five, he'd have been born 1964. I imagine he'd been one of those "stupid youths" who accidentally got a girl pregnant when he was 18, meaning Andrea would have been born in 1982. (And if you think I didn't research popular girl names in the '80s just for a throw-away character in one line, you are _wrong_ ) If she died last year - 2018 - then she would have been 36, and so she wouldn't have died of old age or anything. I also didn't want to include grand-kids so she dies of terminal illness.  
> • I head-canon Andrea's mother (yeah, I'm pathetic, let's move on now) to have declined Henry's offer of marriage and be an independent woman. Henry totally proposed because that's the Correct Thing To Do but the mom was like 'no wtf f off'.


End file.
